


Can't Have Just One

by orphan_account



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Belly Kink, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Stuffing, Weight Gain, kazan gets a tummy ache uwu, the relationship part doesn't come until literally the last couple paragraphs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:15:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22624669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The Oni cheats the system by stuffing himself silly with things he shouldn't be consuming. Obviously, this results in multiple orgasms.
Relationships: Dwight Fairfield/Kazan Yamaoka | The Oni
Kudos: 66





	Can't Have Just One

**Author's Note:**

> Don't ask how this works, it's wacky kink magic. The horny author does not stop to consider frivolities such as realism.

The Oni is pretty fucking pissed because he's just trying to sacrifice some survivors but things keep getting in the way. Nea dropping pallets on his head like this is some kind of cartoon, cocky assholes with flashlights jumping around and blinding him, teammates with an uncanny ability to coordinate their actions. It’s infuriating. Kazan isn’t a stranger to being outnumbered, having had many brawls between him and a horde of angry samurai, but in this realm… Things feel stacked against him. Maybe it’s supposed to be a “fair” fight for the survivors, but if the Entity would stop limiting him so much, he would be able to decimate these fools in seconds. Tear them apart limb from limb. Instead, the Entity demands he slash them once in a non-vital area, then again to down them. Impaling them on his blade ends their pitiful lives too quickly and leaves the Entity still hungry.

“Eat my ass, idiot.” Nea snickers as she drops yet another pallet. Grunting in frustration, Kazan gives the piece of wood a good kick and splinters it in half easily. The sound of generators coming to life in the distance makes him even more infuriated. How long has he been chasing this one girl? She’s so slick, dashing between safe spots over and over, abusing her size to get through spaces he can’t. How annoying. It’s like a mouse scuttling through holes in the walls. No matter. Soon enough, she will regret messing with him for so long.

At another pallet, it seems she was just a little too slow. She fails to drop it before his blade meets her shoulder. She lets out a scream and dashes away as he recovers from the swing, but that doesn't matter to him. He will catch up quickly enough. With a flick of his wrist, the blood trails on the ground lift from the grass and fly into his hand. The liquid forms a solid mass of bloody pulp, and with the amount he’s collected, the Entity sees it fit to allow him to become unshackled. Free. Yes, he crushes the blood between his fingers, feels it drip down his arm, and lets the energy flow through his veins. It’s better than any drug. All of the sudden, his muscles twitch with power and his legs move with purpose. He’s sprinting, his kanabo in his hands now. Normally, it would impede his movements and allow the survivors to run circles around him, but now, it's a tool of pure death.

He’s fucking pissed. He swings the damn thing like it weighs nothing. Nea looks over her shoulder as she runs toward the killer shack and lets out a meep of fear as she spots the Oni sprinting after her, a bloody club in his hands with her name on it. She dives through the window and watches as the Oni slams into the wall, his breath very audibly strained. He pants both due to exertion and due to excitement. Oh, how he wants to see this girl skewered and lifeless. It'll just be a couple more seconds and she'll be dead in his hands.

That being said, some things are easier said than done. She’s running as fast as she can in circles through the shack, and Kazan’s… Well, he’s having more difficulty catching up then he thought he would. The door frames are tight and the window is too small for him to maneuver his bulky body through easily. It doesn’t take much more of this before Kazan feels the pulsing energy leave his body, slipping away like heat from his body on a cold winter night. Nea laughs to herself again as she watches Kazan put away his kanabo with another growl of frustration.

This is fucking infuriating and he can’t even do anything about it.

Nea slams down the shack pallet, which buys her enough time to disappear around the corner and slip away into the shadowy woods. Tracking her would be a bitch, a right waste of time and a half. Kazan sets his jaw hard and grumbles something unintelligible, though it was probably meant to be some kind of curse word. If only the Entity would stop limiting him… Then he wouldn’t get stopped so close to victory like this. All that blood he collects gives him his strength back, but he can only hold so much of it at once in the palm of his hand, and it runs out quickly. If there were a way he could just store more, he could keep going forever. That would strike some fear into the hearts of those cocky survivors.

Something hits Kazan in the head and he has an idea. If he simply has to store the blood… Sure, he doesn’t have much fabric on his outfit that could be used to store something like blood, but he did have his hands and… mouth. It’s worth a shot, of course, but Kazan can’t help but feel pessimistic about this plan. They don't need food in this realm, so his stomach serves only as a hole in his belly, but surely the Entity wouldn’t have overlooked this possibility. There is only one way to find out, though, so Kazan collects the blood spilled all over the shack’s floors and walls and conjures a sizable ball of blood in his hand. His fingers wrap around the orb, having reached the imposed maximum, and he presses into it. It has the consistency of jelly in his palm. Surely…

Kazan lifts up the bottom of his mask and holds the blood orb to his mouth. His tongue sticks out and greets the ball, a shiver going down his spine as the warm fluid meets his taste buds. It feels iron-y and weird, mostly unpleasant, so Kazan squishes the ball between his molars and grimaces as a gush of viscous fluid spreads across his tongue. It isn't quite liquid, but instead held together by some ethereal magical mush. Even though it’s far from a delicious snack, the goop slides down his gullet easily enough, and he gives his belly a good pat as he feels it drop down into his empty stomach. It’s been eons since he's enjoyed the sensation of food in his gut. It’s oddly nice, better than he remembered. He licks his lips and his stomach lets out a growl. He can feel the power already. He wants more.

Seeing as this trial is already rather futile, the Oni spends his time not tracking the rest of the survivors down, but instead retracing his steps to find the spots where the most blood had been spilled. Fortunately, it is very easy to find stained structures around the Yamaoka Estate, so before long, he’s able to develop another blood orb in his palm. He doesn’t hesitate this time and just pops it into his mouth. It’s hard to fit whole, his jaw having to distend a bit, but he lets out a pleased moan as he tips his tongue back and presses the orb into his throat. It’s a little too big to go down comfortably, but he manages to prod it down into his throat with his finger. From there, it’s just a matter of continuously gulping it down, slowly bringing it closer to his eager stomach. His hand comes up to his throat and he presses into his skin gently. The orb makes a notable bulge in his neck as it slides down his insides, but soon enough, it slips down below his collar bones and disappears. A second later, there’s an audible plop as his stomach opens up to accept the gift. Kazan lets out a rattling burp that echoes through the night and he gives his belly another pat. His gut gurgles strangely as it shifts the two masses around. He’s still far from full…

That should be rectified. Kazan runs his tongue over his teeth as he collects more and more blood, gulping down the orbs each time he collects enough to create a sizable ball in his hand. While he loves the feeling of power pulsing deep inside of him, Kazan is even more obsessed with how the orbs feel in his throat. The tightness, the fullness, the shifting in his guts as it drops into his stomach. He can’t stop himself from eating more and more of them until the exit gates are powered and the Entity’s disappointed whispers are in his ears.

Fog surrounds him as he sticks his fingers into his mouth and sucks off the last bit of blood with a pop. He can’t deny that it feels a little shameful to be so piggish, but he can’t stop himself. He needs to fill himself as much as possible. The heavy clouds of fog whirl around him for a while until they wisp away, revealing a freshly rejuvenated estate before him. A strange whooshing sound in the distance tells him that another batch of survivors have entered the trial.

\------

Well, his plan was a success. The problem is that it was too much of a success.

The Oni leans his back against the wall of the shrine and groans. He just finished the latest trial, yet another four kills added to the count, but it had come at more of a cost than he had anticipated. Storing all that blood had come in very handy for the countless trials he's been through since enacting his plan, enabling him to use his power whenever he so chooses. By all means, there is no reason to stop doing it, but Kazan’s large hands fall to his waist and dig into his flesh. At first, he had simply just been bloated from all the blood orbs in his gut, but now that ample time has passed, his busy stomach has converted it all into calories. Pure, unburnable calories that turned straight into fat on his midsection. With how much he’s been swallowing down, he can’t possibly burn all the blood he’s been storing, and it’s all turning into lard now.

Kazan lets out a heavy sigh as he rubs his palm over the expanse of his gut. It sticks out in front of him, a taut and round ball gut. The rest of his body is still muscular and trim, but any trace of abs have disappeared beneath a mountain of fat. He can feel it bounce and wobble with every heavy step he takes. Though it doesn’t impede his performance, Kazan certainly feels its weight as he moves. It’s more distracting than cumbersome… He presses his fingers into the top of his belly where his full stomach bulges out. Prodding his guts causes him to burp a bit, which jostles his stomach’s contents in the process. He can feel the strange orbs roll around inside of him as he moves, which causes his crotch to mysteriously stir.

His hands slide from the curve of his belly all the way down to his tight fundoshi. His outfit largely remains wearable despite his prominent middle, except for having to lower his armor down below his paunch, but his cock is definitely straining against the cloth. He tears the material off himself, freeing his meaty thighs and large member. The erection thrusts forward and bounces against the bottom of his belly as he slides his back down the wall. His hips buck forward and grind against the mound of fat now sitting in his lap. One hand grabs blindly for his erection while the other strokes the top of his gurgling gut.

Before he can get very far, though, there’s that familiar sound of the Entity entering his realm once again. Another trial. Kazan curses under his breath as he desperately tucks his still throbbing erection into his pants and tries to make himself decent. His cock presses against the fabric uncomfortably, rubbing up along the rough material and making a very prominent tent, but he has no time to fuss over himself as he picks up his katana and moves towards the sound of survivors.

He’s lucky to be able to find the rats quickly, especially given how his bloated gut and demanding privates impair both his movement and focus. The survivors look at him not with fear but with confusion as he approaches them. Usually, the bulk of his armor obscures his recently developed gut, but it’s only now that Kazan realizes he had shed his armor while trying to pleasure himself moments ago. As such, his bouncing pot belly is hanging out for all the survivors to gawk at. He feels a pang of shame as he wonders what things they must be thinking about him, but shame turns into rage and he’s swinging his sword seconds later.

A gush of blood splatters against the wall as Kazan pierces his sword through the Swedish girl’s insides. She drops to the ground with a scream and starts crawling away. Before he picks her up, though, Kazan gathers the spilled blood into his hand and greedily gobbles down as much of it as he can. With how gruesome his attack had been, there’s several masses to swallow down, and by the time he forces down the last one, his stomach begins to revolt. There’s a sharp cramp that causes him to double over with a sickly groan. His intestines roll as his gut tries to make room for orbs that just can’t fit. He presses his hand over his mouth in a panic, not wanting to waste all that blood, but nothing comes up. Instead, he feels the orbs drop deeper into him. Kazan runs his hand over the top of his extremely heavy stomach and lets out a sigh of relief.

He turns back around to deal with the survivor he downed, but she’s long gone, having crawled away as he dealt with his stomach ache. Instead, Dwight stands there, a flashlight in his hand. His face is twisted into an expression that can only be defined as a fusion of confusion and disgust. When the Oni lurches forward with a bloody blade extended, Dwight stumbles backwards in fear, but then Kazan stops, drops his weapon to the ground, and presses both of his hands to his gut again. It whines loudly, loud enough for Dwight to hear it too, and he doubles over in pain again. Too full. Every step he tries to take shakes his stomach too much for him to bear. His insides are completely packed to the absolute limit. The weight in his guts is pinning him down. In an effort to soothe his belly, Kazan stumbles backwards until he hits the wall and he drops down into a sitting position again.

He palms his erection again. Going commando was a bad idea, seeing as the friction has kept his boner going strong, and now that his mind has shut down from the pressure and pain, he can’t keep himself from pulling his cock out again and rubbing the shaft up and down. He groans and moans as he strokes himself, his free hand pushing and rubbing on his bloated gut all the while. His fist thumps against his chest and he lets out a lengthy burp, which causes his stomach to lurch again. The sounds his belly makes are almost lewd, glorping and burbling over and over again. It only takes a few moments before he brings himself to a climax and spills his cum onto the curve of his distended middle.

Dwight clicks his flashlight with a grin on his face. He had completely forgotten the trial’s still ongoing, having become completely occupied with his urgent erection. If he weren’t pinned to the floor by his stuffed gut, Kazan would have gotten up and struck Dwight down right there and then, but all he can do is groan as he rubs his gut right in front of Dwight. Surprisingly, Dwight reaches down and adjusts his own erection, but he doesn’t do any more than that yet. He just snickers after watching the Oni futilely attempt to calm his raging stomach.

That bastard. Kazan lets out a frustrated growl as he stares Dwight down, trying his best to still appear threatening despite his rather debilitating stomach ache. His attempt at intimidation fails, however, as Dwight shoves his flashlight into his back pocket and approaches the killer without so much as a hint of fear. Kazan shouts something vulgar at the survivor, but they don’t speak the same language and the insult falls on deaf ears.

“Looks like you’re really letting yourself go, huh?” Dwight coos, though Kazan doesn’t understand and instead assumes it’s a degrading comment. He shoots his hand out and grabs Dwight’s wrist when he kneels down next to the Oni’s bloated form, but he doesn’t snap Dwight’s bones just yet, as Dwight’s other hand is already pressing against his fatty middle. He starts rubbing soothing circles into the bulk of it, which causes Kazan to lean his head back and press his own hands into the sides of his gut. While his churning stomach is still uncomfortable, Dwight’s purposeful movements do a much better job at comforting him than his own panicked motions had been. Despite having just emptied his seed onto the bottom of his gut, Kazan’s cock stirs again and he can’t help but paw at it while Dwight plays with his belly. It’s a firm belly, not hanging down over his waist too much, but it still wobbles profusely each time Dwight presses into it. It’s like a proper mound of gelatin, bouncing back into form whenever disturbed. 

Dwight watches as Kazan brings himself to an orgasm again, which he takes as a cue to pull out his much smaller cock (it's not a contest, but it's very noticeable) and start finally jacking off. He quickly cums, having patiently waited for the release while stroking the Oni’s impressive paunch, and he lets his semen spill out over the most prominent point of the Oni’s belly. The white liquid pools in the Oni’s deep navel, though it struggles to settle as the Oni’s jiggly gut keeps wobbling back and forth as the rather intense second orgasm shakes the killer's body.

Dwight smiles with a mischievous look in his eyes as he tucks his dick back into his trousers. The Oni doesn’t even open his eyes as Dwight slips away. Kazan has completely lost himself in the ecstasy. Dwight snickers again as he catches one last glimpse of the bloated samurai before he turns the corner. “You better keep stuffing yourself, piggy.”


End file.
